Out of Reach
by Madhuri
Summary: Ginny reflects on her feelings the night Harry proposes to Hermione.


**Summary:** Ginny reflects on her feelings as she witnesses a significant moment in her friends' lives. 

**Disclaimer:** This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. 

**Author's Note: ** This fic is an attempt to view a H/H relationship from Ginny's point of view. Thanks and glomps to the wonderful Lisse for beta-reading this. And mad sluggles to Alanna for giving her nod of consent. ;) Please be a responsible reader and review. Any and all feedback is appreciated. 

* * *

**_Out of Reach_**

When I was thirteen years old, I went to my first Ball. I don't remember much of what happened then, only that my foot was very sore afterwards and Neville kissed me goodnight on the cheek.

What I do remember very clearly about that night was the hour before the Ball, when Hermione and I were getting ourselves ready. Her room-mates were completely monopolising the fourth-year dorm, and mine had gone home for Christmas, so we decided to use my dorm for preparing ourselves for the big night. Neither of us had been asked out by the one we'd hoped for, but we couldn't have been in higher spirits. We laughed, giggled, twirled, rolled our eyes and hyperventilated. I had saved up my money for a whole year to buy my new white dress robes, and Hermione looked positively stunning in her blue ones. I told her so, but she just brushed away the compliment with a shrug.

When I got back to my dorm that night, Hermione was already there, crying. I sat with her on the bed and listened to everything she had to say. Then I hugged her quickly and told her to go to sleep, that everything would be all right in the morning. It was. I found my new best friend.

Hermione and I must have dressed up together countless times after that, and we've continued to laugh, cry and giggle with each other as well. Tonight she was sitting in front of me, getting ready for her date with Harry, and all I could think about was of how under-dressed she was.

"What are you going to do tonight?" she asked, bravely trying to tackle her hair with a ratty old brush.

I shrugged. "I'm going to have to re-draft the article again. Editor's still not pleased with it."

Hermione sniffed disdainfully as she tilted her head to the side and studied her reflection. "Elliot's a cranky old bat who just doesn't want to get overshadowed by your talent. You're a fabulous writer." She turned to grin at me, but I stared back unsmiling.

She stood up and was about to make her way out of the room when I abruptly held out a hand to stop her. "Wait," I said. "Put on some jewellery or something."

"Jewellery?" she asked. "Why? We're only going to have dinner in the backyard."

"Just… put something on. And do you want me to do your hair?" I insisted.

"No Ginny," she laughed. "I'm fine."

The doorbell chimed through the house and we both jumped, then laughed. "He's here!" Hermione said, her eyes widening. We grinned at each other.

I followed her slowly out of the room, and waited by the staircase landing, watching her open the door and greet Harry with a kiss. As if to compensate for Hermione's plain blue sweater and jeans, Harry looked like he's going to attend a State dinner in his sharply cut Starkasdottir Formal robes. I could picture the poor guy in my mind's eye, trying on one suit after another, rotating around and around in front of the mirror, and trying unsuccessfully to discipline his hair. Hermione didn't seem to notice his extravagance, however. She smiled at him and took the flowers he'd brought out into the backyard to set on the dining table. Before Harry could follow her, I swung myself over the stair railing and landed with a thump in front of him. This unnerves him every time I do it; it really is too much fun.

"Ginny," he said, picking up his glasses from the floor. "Got a date tonight?"

  
"Are you kidding? Go out of the house… now? No way- I want to witness the big moment." I shot him a knowing smile.

He rolled his eyes, but grinned back excitedly. "All right then… but make sure that I can't see you when I do it. I'll lose my nerve."

"Somehow I don't see that happening."  
  


He continued to grin at me till I asked, "So where is it?"

He patted his vest pocket and took a deep breath. "I'm really going to do this," he said, wonder in his voice. I'd never seen him look quite so nervous before.

Suddenly overcome with emotion, I threw my arms around him and hugged him tightly. I could feel Harry's surprise, but he hugged me back. I pull away after a second and patted his shoulders reassuringly. "Good luck you," I said, my voice hoarse.

He held my hands for a moment, and looked me in the eye, expressing a silent thanks. "You better go," I said, jerking my head to the back door. "Hermione's waiting."

Ø

I had barely written two words of the stupid article when I caught myself looking over my shoulder at the large kitchen window, trying to find out what was happening in the yard. I tapped my quill irritably against my knee, debating with myself on whether I'd be justified in spying on them. It was probably rude staying in the house tonight, but I couldn't resist. I'd even told my entire family about what Harry was planning, and promised to alert them once the big moment was over, even though Harry had sworn Ron and I to secrecy on what he was about to do. The wait was excruciating. I wanted to be the first person to hug Hermione as she came running into the house, squealing and showing off her engagement ring. 

I'd helped Harry pick it out, I marvelled. A few years ago, I could not have fathomed such a thing. Encouraging the only man I'd ever loved to propose to my best friend. It was unthinkable. But… it was going to happen tonight.

I stood up quickly, and the chair squeaked in protest as it scraped against the dining room tiles. I made my way to the kitchen, and stood quietly for a few moments as I observed Harry and Hermione having their dinner. They were talking softly and smiling at each other; it obviously had not happened yet. I looked around helplessly- they didn't seem to have the slightest inclination to look my way, but I didn't want to seem blatantly obvious that I was spying on them. 

I started washing the dishes left over from lunch by hand. It was strange not letting them clean up on their own, but I didn't really care. Anything to make it look like I was busy.

The yard did look beautiful tonight, I noticed. Hermione had lit a few candles that hovered above them, but there was also light from a few fairies that had wandered in, and from the gorgeous crescent moon illuminating the night sky, sprinkled with hundreds of diamond-like stars. The rose bushes we'd worked hard on were in full bloom, and the crickets seemed to exist to serenade them. But from the looks on the faces of the two people eating their dinner, they wouldn't have cared if they were together in a filthy alley with stray cats trying to make off with their food. It didn't really matter to them where they were, what they did, what other people thought or who they were around. I had learned that first-hand the first few weeks those two were dating.

I polished the last plate carefully with her hand-towel, and set in the cabinet. I stood back, leaned against the pantry, and folded my arms, trying to watch the scene in front of me with the air of an unattached passer-by.

_I'll be the maid-of-honour of course_, I thought. _And hopefully Hermione won't choose a horrendous gown for me to wear. I might even get a date… some nice-looking bloke might ask me to dance… I'll get to dance with the groom…_ I smiled to myself.

_And then I'll hug and kiss the bride and tell her how happy I am to be a part of this occasion, a part of her life. I'll talk the twins out of hexing the wedding cake, and I'll sob into my handkerchief when Ron gets up to make his toast and talks about how incredibly wonderful it is that the two people who mean the very world to him have finally got their act together. About how after all these long years, they found themselves in each other. And about how lucky we are to witness it._

I was jolted out of my train of thought when I saw Harry lean forward slightly, his expression tense and expectant. He carefully slid his hand into his vest pocket. Hermione was smiling at him unconcernedly. _She really has no idea,_ I thought, my heart beating rapidly. I leaned forward as well.

What happened next seemed to take place very slowly to me. Harry reached in, removed the small velvet box, opened it carefully, and extended his arm, placing it on Hermione's side of the table. I could see him mouthing words, but I have no idea what he said. Hermione's mouth hung open, and she quickly stood up, not taking her eyes away from the ring on the table.

Harry hurriedly got up as well, taking the box and placing it gently in Hermione's hand, saying something to her. Hermione stared at the ring, almost as if not believing what was happening. I could practically see the wheels turning in her head, as she attempted to rationalise and figure out logically what was possibly the most incredible moment in her life so far.

_Trust Hermione to try and be pedantic and logical even when she's being proposed to,_ I remember thinking irritably.

Hermione's mouth opened and closed, and she clamped a hand over it. She looked at Harry with a wide eyes and what seemed like an incredulous expression, at least from where I was standing. I also remember thinking, rather strangely, that the girl _really_ needed to have her hair cut some time soon.

After a moment, I realised that she was crying. Harry clutched her arms and spoke to her urgently, leaning in. She continued crying, not looking at him. She was… she was _rejecting _him?

From somewhere, some crazy, irrational, insane place that I never want to visit again, a mad dash of hope hit me. For one unforgettable moment, I thought that maybe I hadn't lost Harry forever after all. And that thought overwhelmed me with a feeling I'm ashamed to say was quite similar to unbridled happiness.

The next second, Harry leaned over and kissed Hermione tenderly on the forehead. And, while she was still crying, he gently removed her hand from her mouth, picked up the ring from the box she clutched in her other hand, and slid it on to her finger. I leaned back against the pantry, stunned. Hermione looked at Harry with an expression of utmost wonderment, cupped his face in her hands, kissed him and hugged him tightly. They clung to each other, and over Hermione's shoulder, I could see that Harry was crying as well.

Before I'd managed to get a handle on myself, they burst into the kitchen, their eyes red-rimmed, but still looking happier than I've ever seen them look before. Hermione couldn't seem to find the words to speak. She just held out her hand to let me see the ring. I was motionless for a few seconds, but quickly gathered my wits about me as I realised what I had to do next. I scrambled suddenly to the fireplace in the living room, grabbed a jar off the shelf, threw some luminescent green powder into the grate, stuck my head in and yelled, "Mum! Dad! Ron! Everyone! _It's happened! _Get over here!"

I looked up to see Harry and Hermione staring at me from the kitchen door. "Everyone… everyone knows?" Harry croaked.

I smiled uncertainly as I got up and made my way towards them. "I'm sorry…" I began, but stopped abruptly, because the three of us had burst out laughing.

Hermione turned her face up to Harry's and asked, grinning, "Did you really not want to share this moment with our family?"

I let out a long breath. At that moment, I felt ridiculously like the luckiest person in the world, just to be standing in the same room with them. I reached out to Harry and Hermione, and the three of us hugged tightly until a loud, unruly group of redheads tumbled out of the fireplace.  

Ø

* * *


End file.
